Streets of Gold
by Amends to the Living
Summary: "Now he could relate to being nervous, an old feeling that he thought had been written out of his 'automaton book of body language' years ago." What happens when Kurt Hummel plays devil's advocate? Post S1. Focuses on St. Berry and one-sided Kinn.


He's not exactly sure what he's doing here, standing on the much smaller stage of McKinley High's auditorium. On the surface, he's contemplating why the lights aren't as bright as theirs and how much his flawless complexion would suffer if someone were to walk in. Then he realized that probably wouldn't be his biggest problem.

It was the furthest thing from hush hush that Jesse St. James was probably the _most_ unwelcome former student here at this school.

That was a particularly tough feat to achieve what with the jock-tastic bullies that were fond of the improper use of slushies and trash bins, Mr. Schuester's just barely above par taste in music (which in his eyes was completely unforgivable), and the Cheerios' coach whose name struck fear into the very hearts of her performers.

Of course, he could raise a brow and claim that they were just being sore losers. After all, Vocal Adrenaline did sweep fiercely through its competition with a steely 'no prisoners' attitude, made all the more easier with him as lead. Even without him, the rival group was still impeccable, so New Directions didn't stand a chance.

What they really needed, ironically, was a new direction…

Or a school address, rather, because the embarrassment of coming in third was just too much and far be it for him to try to figure out how they could live with themselves after a loss like that. Then again, he wasn't used to losing anything. Ever. Not a part, not a note or his pitch, and certainly not a girl.

Though you can't really lose what you never had in the first place, can you?

So the question still remained why the great Jesse St. James was standing on the stage of lesser deserving mortals. Okay, he was guilty. Sometimes his ego did make him feel like a God among insects. Other times, it just made him an immature, self-centered young man that was the only one capable of prying the words _"break it like you broke my heart"_ from an otherwise confident opponent.

For all intents and purposes, Jesse St. James had won.

It would have been easier to just befriend her and betray her trust—as a friend, instead of a lover—but it wouldn't have been nearly as satisfying, now would it?

So Jesse took the extra step to charm his way into her heart. He effortlessly sang a little duet here, he cleverly stroked her ego there, and they complimented each other well as a power couple (that was _so_ much more than just another Beyonce and Jay-Z, if you asked him). The impact had doubled, maybe even tripled, by the time he was finished with her.

It wasn't part of the plan that Shelby had laid out for him.

He could see the apprehension shining in her eyes when he replaced the word "befriend" with another, because she knew that he was just like her: highly ambitious, cunning, and self-preserving. If worst came to worst, even the mother-son like pair might have sold each other out for a simple part in a musical. That was just the way they were.

Jesse always knew what he wanted. This time had been no different, although he couldn't quite piece together when the conquest had turned into a need. He wasn't sure when he started looking at her differently, his eyes wider than they had ever been as they finally took in everything that she had to offer.

The first performance he had seen from her group of misfits had been sloppy, unrehearsed, but above all, unworthy of one Barbra Streisand enthusiast…

Rachel Berry.

It was easy for her to prance around in that way of hers and say that he had broken her heart. It was easy because she had her friends, some more fake than others. But they were there to catch her when she fell, as well as slash the tires of their new cars, which was clever but ultimately costly on their part.

___Touché_, New Directions.

At least they finally grew a pair and started acting more like badasses.

But no one really batted an eyelash his way when Rachel triple casted him alongside Puckerman and Hudson for that _Run Joey Run_ video. They didn't know what it was like to be upstaged by a couple of football jocks that didn't appreciate theater the way that he did. Their oh so eventful lives up until Glee club were throwing freshmen headfirst into the trash or trapping them in lockers, unless you called running around in stirrups an event.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate football; Jesse just didn't appreciate losers.

And if those two were known for anything consecutively, it was losing. But that wasn't the point. The point was that Rachel Berry wore her heart on her sleeve and she expected everyone else to do the same. But then she went behind their backs and used them in a rather lewd act for attention. _She_ used _him_. Maybe the worst part was that he had been doing the exact same thing all along, but her actions were brought out into the spotlight. She flaunted her failures, for better or worse, and he had never been capable of that.

* * *

Jesse was far too wrapped up in his own thoughts to hear the distinct sound of expensive shoes clicking against the glossy floor. He looked up a second too soon to see a dark figure standing in the shadows, his brows etching together in irritation once more for the horrible lack of lighting that washed over this ominous entity.

Maybe it was the perfectly manicured hands resting on the figure's hips in a stoic, but demanding pose that gave it away. Or it could have been the edge of a piece from the Marc Jacobs collection that was revealed when the mysterious stranger took a single step towards the spotlight. Another revealed neatly combed brown hair swooped to the side, while a pair of all-seeing, bright blue eyes peered out at him from underneath the meticulous hairstyle.

"Jesse St. James," they stated in an edgy, high-strung voice that meant business and left little room for jabbing remarks or an escape. "Most people think you're dead. Well, one person wants you to be eaten by a lion… I can't say I don't agree."

Jesse lifted his chin a bit, not intimidated by the obvious jab at his ego by the one and only Kurt Hummel. He wondered for a second what the flamboyant fashionista was doing here, but he knew better than to ask something that could easily be turned back on him. "You still remember my name… so I'll take that as a sign of submission. As for the lion, I've always been more of a Tin Man."

Kurt's upper lip curled involuntarily into a pleased grin at the _Wizard of Oz_ reference, though he didn't allow it to reach his eyes out of some truce he'd finally formed with Rachel. It just wouldn't be right to humor him. God knows his ego doesn't need anymore feeding.

"Hardly. But that explains a lot," he remarked simply, taking a couple more steps towards center stage. Kurt contemplated the role that Jesse chose, knowing that the Tin Man didn't have a heart, but was still one of the most tender and emotional characters throughout the story. He wasn't sure how that fit the scenario here, or if he was simply being toyed with. Well, whatever Jesse had done to Rachel, he wasn't going to do it again and pull his heart strings for sympathy. "Mind telling me what a member of Vocal Adrenaline is doing on our quaint little stage?"

And there it was, the question that Jesse St. James himself wasn't quite sure he could answer. Now he could relate to being nervous, an old feeling that he thought had been written out of his 'automaton book of body language' years ago.

But deep down, he _was_ nervous; he was just very good at not showing it.

He knew that Kurt wouldn't believe him if he told him that he wasn't sure, so Jesse simply shrugged as he took a seat on stage, letting his legs dangle over the edge. Besides, he wasn't about to show any vulnerability to his competition. Not that he was ever one for following the rules. I mean, just look at him, standing around his opponent's stage like he was going to lay some mouse traps for them. It would have been an embarrassing situation for any of his co-members, but not for him.

Kurt remembered sitting with Finn on stage once, planting subtle hints about how he needed to switch teams if he wanted things to be easier for him, and he didn't mean in terms of football. But Jesse was nothing like his near stepbrother, so it was easier for him to communicate around him without becoming a giddy little fangirl.

Not that Jesse St. James wasn't attractive, he was…

But then he quickly remembered how much he really _did_ look like Will Schuester's nephew and that was enough to disengage from that thought process.

Curling his fingers inward in slight distaste, Kurt remembered how much worse the inside of a trash bin was as he took a seat opposite of the other male singer. Jesse didn't so much as lift his head, but Kurt did notice his hands moving to rest on the cold floor beside him as a sign of getting more comfortable. At least the Vocal Adrenaline lead had good hygiene from what he could see, which was more than he could say for other students in this school.

They sat there in an uneasy silence for a few minutes, Kurt tugging on his man purse and heaving it up higher on his shoulder every so often. He could easily leave, or inform someone of this sudden invasion on campus, but the truth was that he was curious and intrigued by the sudden reappearance of the egging culprit.

"Did you leave something here?" Kurt finally asked, his tone direct and deliberate as he tried to make eye contact with the other male.

Jesse turned his head to glance at him for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face at the broad question. He smiled internally, because surely it was a joke to ask him such a blasphemous thing. _You have no idea, _he thought to himself with a show face grin, always careful never to let down his guard around his enemies.

* * *

**A/N:** This is my first attempt at a Glee fic. I saw it as a personal challenge to write for a character that most people tend to dislike, because there's always more than meets the eye, right? Read and review as you wish (:


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